


Another Way

by anorakofavalon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-01-16 14:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18523345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anorakofavalon/pseuds/anorakofavalon
Summary: His face flickered as if she had struck him with the sword. It was the worst possible time for a conversation, the worst possible moment to tell her the truth. She was already in league with Morgause, she hated him and would hate him more. The castle was under siege. Arthur could have been hurt. But Merlin felt it in his heart. 03x02 Magic Reveal! The Tears of Uther Pendragon II





	1. Chapter 1

**_ SUMMER _ **

 

_"I thought… because she has magic, I thought we were the same."_

_"In some ways you are."_

_"No. I will never be like her."_

_"You have learnt an important lesson, Merlin. Your determination to see goodness in people will be your undoing. But I fear that your futures are now joined forever. She is the darkness to your light, the hatred to your love."_

He felt the darkness course through the roots, the very foundations of Camelot. It spread its way through the Earth, the soil of the city, and up through his body. His head lashed back of its own accord. It clawed up the walls, rumbling in its wake, and then the towers. He felt it reach the sky and thunder roared.

Merlin grimaced and began to run. The dead had risen, and he knew very well who did it.

 

**~{(0)}~**

 

He turned a corner, taking his pained breathing as yet further inspiration to get to his destination quickly. Every footfall took more from his reserves than any spell ever did.

_"There are times, Merlin, when you display a sort of... I don't know what it is. I don't want to say... it's not wisdom. But, yes. That's what it is."_

It was a tad bit ironic, given what he was about to do. Arthur wouldn't be all too happy, probably. But still... He flung his arm out and pulverized a skeleton, and another when it moved to block his path. He took a distinct, twisted pleasure in launching one out of a window. He would have to apologize to Arthur's ancestors later.

_"I don't have time. I need to get back to Camelot. The kingdom is in danger and...it's my fault. I should've listened to you. Should never have trusted Morgana."_

_"You did what you felt was right, and that shows great courage, but trust is a double edged sword."_

He stood before the entrance to the catacombs. The gates were flung open, shredded by a force he knew to be magic. It lingered in the air, thick as the darkness he descended into. Merlin's eyes were golden as he calmly took the steps down. There were skeletons hidden in the darkness but he did not bother with his hands. His magic tore them apart as he passed them.

There was light as he reached the bottom. It was unearthly, pale, a shadow of the sun's own rays. The magic was putrid and foul and older than Kilgharrah himself. Merlin unsheathed his blade, useless as it would be. His steps were quiet as he turned the corner and saw her standing there. She was bathed in the light of shadows, a vision of twisted beauty. He knew whose fault that was.

He noted the wooden staff in the center of the room from which the light had been birthed. Its form was as twisted as Morgana's smile when her head turned to him. He knew from her eyes that she was beginning to comprehend just how significant he was, in the scheme of things. She was beginning to comprehend that he would never stop trying to stop her. She would be right.

Still, her old confidence hadn't left her, warped as it had begun to become. "You should leave, while you still can."

The castle rumbled in distress. Lightning's light striking at the illumination of the moon. Brighter, angrier, more vicious. He thought, briefly, of Nimueh. Was he the lightning? Or was Morgana? Was she the moon and he the sky?

The sky thundered, and his heart did too. "Morgana, _please_. I beg you. Women and children are dying. The city will fall."

She didn't falter. "Good."

She was bluffing and he knew it. But still, his voice wavered. "No, you don't mean that."

She faltered then. "I have magic, Merlin. Uther hates me and everyone like me. Why should I feel any differently about him?"

It was strange that she was seeking validation from him, pleading in her own way. Not that she knew what that was like. Morgana had never had to beg for a thing in her life.

"You of all people could change Uther's mind, but doing this? Using magic like this will only harden his heart."

Her eyes narrowed in frustration. "You don't have magic, Merlin. How could you even hope to understand?"

And there it was, the moment of truth. She would hate him, if he told her about his magic. If she didn't already. Merlin wondered if she had truly forgiven him for poisoning her. Did _she_ understand? Would _she_ have done the same? He couldn't bring himself to tell her. Kilgharrah and Gaius weighed heavily on his mind. She would tell Uther, or worse still, Arthur.

"I do understand, believe me. If I had your gifts, I would harness them for good. That's what magic should be for. That's why you were born with these powers."

She could scream in frustration, he could tell. He probably could scream in frustration too, but she couldn't tell - he had been wearing a mask for longer.

She fumed. "You don't know what it's like to be an outsider. To be ashamed of how you were born, to have to hide who you are. Do you think I deserve to be executed because of who I am?"

His first memories were of being caressed and cuddled and coddled by his mother Hunith. She was a sweet woman who worked hard and gave him everything she could. His second memories were of his delight when he could summon toys to his hand, when he made candles glow. His third memories were of being called a bastard and not knowing what it meant, except that it made his mother cry.

He remembered being called a demon child. The other children told him he was born in a lightning storm, that he was evil. And when he cried, when he wailed because the things they said hurt, the skies would darken, and rain would fall, and the other children would run to their own families. Lightning would hammer the earth.

They got bolder as they got older though, and Merlin meeker. They would hurt him. They'd push him, punch him. They would throw things at him, too. Sometimes they made him bleed and he wanted nothing more than to hurt them in return but he _wouldn't_. Because he was desperate to prove that he wasn't a monster. He was just a normal boy.

But he wasn't and he never would be. He hid his magic, as best he could. But it was never enough. It always slipped from his tight, white-knuckled grasp. It struck out when he most desperately wished that it wouldn't, and every time the villagers became more suspicious. Not just resentful of him, but his own mother as well, for spawning a demon.

His only reprieve from that pain had been Will, who joked him through it. Who took the blame for some of the mischief that Merlin's magic caused. Will never treated him differently. He never lied to Merlin. Will had died for his sake. If Merlin didn't have a friend like Will, who risked a lot and risked it often for _him_ , then Merlin would never have made it to Camelot.

Morgana never had that. He could have been that, but he was afraid. He was a coward, Merlin knew as much. Will wouldn't have poisoned his friend. He would have found another way. But Merlin didn't. He betrayed Morgana. She had put her entire life in his hand and he crushed it.

The rumbling brought his attention back. Her eyes were studying his own. Her pupils were dilated, searching him for the truth. For once in his life, the truth. He would give it to her.

His voice cracked. "No, Morgana, you don't deserve to be executed for who you are. No one does."

Her eyes widened slightly. He had caught her completely off guard. She had expected him to condemn her for having magic. Is that what he had become?

He continued. "But it doesn't have to be like this." He stepped closer. "We can find another way."

They stared at each other for a moment. For one brief second, a minute, a breath, they both hoped that what he said was true.

"There is no other way." Her voice was soft, but heavy with conviction.

He nodded at her words, and stepped back. She knew he wouldn't give up. He made a move for the rowan staff, just to get her on the defensive. She had a sword raised quickly, and he did as well. He tapped his blade to hers and the fighting began. It was a bit of a performance on both their parts. He wasn't aiming to harm her, and for some reason she wasn't either.

Merlin smirked a little bit. "What are you going to do? Kill me?"

Morgana got a little competitive, but she was amused. "You don't think I can?"

They struck at each other with solid blows, but not as much passion as either of them should have. The crack of thunder outside seemed to have dispelled any of Morgana's hesitations or distractions. She struck her first true blow, and he was only just able to block it, his wrist aching from the exertion. He adjusted his grip. They weren't playing anymore.

He went on the offensive, striking at her head from above, she blocked it and took advantage of his close proximity. Twisting her body around, she moved to strike at his abdomen. Merlin jumped back, but the tip of her sword cut at his shirt and grazed his skin.

Morgana showed surprise. "You've gotten handy with a sword since I've been gone, Merlin."

He pointed at the cut. "Not handy enough."

She grinned despite herself, but not for long. She tacked on a little grimace and decided to bite at him. "Awfully good with poison though, I'll tell you that."

His face flickered as if she had struck him with the sword. It was the worst possible time for a conversation, the worst possible moment to tell her the truth. She was already in league with Morgause, she hated him and would hate him more. The castle was under siege, Arthur could have been hurt. But Merlin felt it in his heart.

He dropped his sword. "I didn't want to. You were my friend. You are still my friend, Morgana."

She gaped at his dropped sword. He was clearly full of surprises. But she wouldn't allow him the chance to blindside her. "So what happened Merlin? _Couldn't find another way?_ Or maybe you just wanted me to die because I had magic."

He frowned. "Is that what you think of me, Morgana?"

"It's what you've shown to me. _Friend_."

She moved forward with her blade aimed at his throat. He didn't move.

"If you're going to kill me, make it quick."

She was puzzled once more, but she didn't show it this time.

"Why should I?"

The blade was touching his skin now.

"Because if you don't I will stop you."

She laughed. "And just how do you plan on doing that, Merlin? You're useless even with a sword."

She was baiting him, but he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. He nudged the blade away from his throat and began to move forward.

"Because I do know what it's like to be an outsider. I do know what it's like to be ashamed of how I was born. And I already do have to hide who I am every day, Morgana. Every. Single. Day."

He was a step away from her, and she was looking up at him, startled but entranced by the way he spoke. This was no serving boy speaking.

"I can't let anybody else get hurt Morgana. I'm a protector. I protected you too, once. I'm sorry that you made me hurt you. I'm sorry that I wasn't a good friend to you. But I can't let this go on."

She moved to stab him but he knocked her away with a flash of his eyes. Not very much, not very hard, but enough that she was at a safe distance. She didn't even blink as her feet were dragged through the floor and she barely maintained her balance.

Her eyes didn't turn gold in return. She was as stuck in place as the staff in the center of the room, staring at him in what he could only call soul-shattering shock. Though he couldn’t tell if it was his soul or hers that was doing the shattering.

 The room felt different. The magic shifted, and the torches became lit all at once, contrasting the pale light of the moon with a fiery hue. Merlin stood straighter, as if he was at last being honest with himself, admitting to a heritage older than time. He was.

He locked a look with her, and gave her a moment to sear the gold of his eyes in her memory for all of time. He reached towards the rowan staff from where he stood, and pulled it towards him with magic. It flew to him with little hesitation, as if it had always been his servant. He took it in his hands firmly, and something gave in the atmosphere. The dark magic bristled, afraid of what was to come, but powerless to do anything about it, like Morgana herself.

Merlin raised a knee and slammed the staff to it, and with a spark, he tore it in half. 

Morgana recalled the sheer power of the staff. When Morgause gave it to her it hummed in her hands, prickling at where she held it like a thousand needles.

_"I'm not powerful enough to wield this, Morgause."_

_"Do not worry my dear, that staff was crafted from the Rowan tree in the center of the Isle of the Blessed. It carries its own power. None have laid eyes on it except for the High Priestesses, and the blood god that planted it."_

Her disbelief was immense as the darkness receded from the sky. She and he both felt it retreat from the towers and the walls of the castle. They felt it abandon the undead it had summoned. They felt it rush down through the soiled soil and into the catacombs, to attack Merlin.

Wind rushed through, the only sign of the physical manifestation of the evil Morgana had wrought forth into Camelot. And yet, somehow, Merlin stood calmly in the center, and with his glowing eyes silenced it once and for all, without moving or flinching.

It was dreadfully quiet, and Morgana hated it because she was certain that even he could hear her heart pumping, could sense her fear. And still his eyes were glowing, as if mocking her and apologizing all at once. As he stood before her, the flames of the torches framing his figure, she wondered if _he_ had planted the rowan tree.

But her awe at his power was short-lived as the gold receded from his eyes and he looked more like Merlin and less like Death. When he stared at her with those insufferably blue eyes, when he moved to help her up, only then could she bring herself to burn with the anger that she was feeling.

Merlin had magic.

Merlin had magic, and he killed her.

She trusted him, and he did not trust her. The betrayal pulled at her throat more than the hemlock ever could.

Her eyes watered and she stood up, still holding the sword at him. It was useless of course, they both knew it. Even her magic would have been useless. She held it up against him anyways.

"How many?" She demanded. Her voice was raw with anger. "How many of our kin did you betray? How many have you sacrificed to Uther's hatred, Merlin?"

Merlin flinched. "Just you."

That had hurt her in ways she was not prepared for.

"How many have you killed for his sake?"

"Too many Morgana. But not for Uther's sake. Never for Uther's sake."

"Then for who? _Arthur_?"

Merlin nodded. "He is destined to bring magic back to Camelot, Morgana. I have to protect him. He's my friend."

She reeled. "So was I."

Merlin couldn't respond to that. His heart was thudding in his chest. His throat was constricted. This was a terrible idea, but Morgana had to know.

"You're a monster Merlin."

His face crumpled. "I didn't want to poison you, Morgana."

"That's not what this is about!" She screamed. "You _knew_. You knew I had magic. You could have helped me and you-you..." She glared at him. "You pawned me off for the druids to deal with. And you got them all killed. You did that Merlin. That was you. I've lived with it for years but it was never my guilt to bear. "

She was up close now, pounding her fist on his chest with every accusation.

He let her. What she said was nothing new. "Yes, Morgana. I've done terrible things, I know that. But I'm trying. I'm trying really hard to change things."

He could feel the heat of her tears as they dripped down her face. "How could you do this, Merlin?"

She stared at him, desperate for an answer for the sake of her own sanity.

"I-" Merlin did not like how he was at a loss for words. Arthur and the knights were probably still fighting. He decided he needed to sit.

He moved towards one of the tombs and sat on it, his hands clasped together. Her eyes followed him, brows knit together.

"I would say..." he began carefully, "that it wasn't my choice. But that's not true. It has been my choice."

She began to open her mouth to say something but Merlin cut her off. "I'm not talking about poisoning you Morgana. I really did have no choice then. If I didn't do it, Morgause wouldn't have stopped the siege of the city."

She offered nothing to that, which he supposed was a sort of permission to continue.

"I have been able to do magic since I was a baby. I did magic while still in a cradle. I could make things fly, or light up candles."

Tears had stopped streaming down her face, and now she was listening. Guarded, but curious. If anyone deserved an explanation it was her.

"I was always told that I was a monster, Morgana. You're just another person in a long line of people. I had to leave Ealdor when I was nineteen because if I didn't, bad things would happen..." He let that hang in the air. "My mother sent me to Gaius. He's her uncle, and a good friend. She sent me here to Camelot because I needed to learn to control my magic and nobody else could teach me. Let alone in Ealdor."

He thought, for a moment, that her eyes softened. Her face resolved to neutrality soon enough.

He tapped the tomb with his fingers. "When I stepped through the gates of Camelot, the first person I met was Gwen. She was so kind. And as we entered the citadel, do you know what the first thing I saw was Morgana? I saw you, looking down at the execution of Thomas Collins. For having magic."

He huffed. "I came from a place where having magic made me a demon, and waltzed into the heart of a kingdom where having magic made me a dead man instead. Gaius told me as much. I saved his life with magic, and the very first thing he did was tell me off."

Merlin laughed to himself. "He still does that. But he's not the only one… On my first night, a voice called my name. I went down to the caverns and I met a dragon."

She gasped, her first reaction. "It was you, you released the dragon while I was away. Gwen told me about it."

Merlin nodded. "That was a mistake." He looked at her intently. "One of very many of my mistakes, Morgana. That first night he told me I was destined to bring magic back to the land. But he told me I could only do it through Arthur. If I was to fulfill my destiny, I needed to protect Arthur."

He sighed. "And so I did. Not only because it was my destiny, but because Arthur became a friend. And despite everything, sometimes I see him and I just know that… he is the king we've been waiting for."

"He's Uther's son, Merlin." Morgana snapped.

"He's much more than that Morgana, and you know it."

She changed the pace of the conversation. "And what else did the lizard happen to say?"

Merlin quirked a smirk at hearing Kilgharrah called a lizard. "He answered my questions mostly, and sometimes he warned me about things… and he was wrong."

Morgana watched him warily. "Like not telling me about my magic. That was his directive, I presume?"

"No." Merlin said. "His directive was for me to kill you. Or to let you die."

Her mouth opened at that but she didn't say anything, likely from shock.

"He told me, Morgana, that you were destined for darkness. I told him you had a good heart."

Merlin stood up and approached her. She didn't move. "It wasn't only until you began to meet with Morgause that I suspected maybe he wasn't wrong."

Morgana glared at him. "Oh? I'm the evil one? It seems to me that I was just making your job easier. By killing Uther, Arthur could be king."

Merlin shook his head. "If you killed Uther, Morgana, if you did it with magic… Arthur would never accept it. He would become just like his father. Arthur has made great strides but he's not ready to become king yet."

"So you're just going to wait until Uther dies of old age? You're going to let our people suffer for that long in order to preserve Arthur's innocence? I thought you were a coward but it turns out you’re just a fool. You went to a dragon for advice and listened. Like a puppy."

"I listened to you, too," he shrugged "whenever you had a vision, I acted on it."

She was brought up short for a moment but brought it around to the offensive. "And yet you couldn't tell me about your magic."

"Don't you think I wanted to Morgana?"

"Clearly not all that much if the fact that it took me raising an army of the undead is any indication."

Merlin groaned. "Morgana I've been alone all of my life. Nobody to tell my secret to. Nobody to share myself with. I had Will and my mother before, but they didn't have magic, they couldn't understand. Gaius doesn't practice anymore. And anybody else just...died. For my sake. Or because of a curse. Or because I had to stop them from hurting Arthur."

He looked up at her. "But then there you were with your visions. I suspected, I hoped, but I couldn't bring myself to believe. Until that night that you told me what you thought it was. And suddenly I didn't feel so alone anymore. Because you were my friend Morgana. You risked your life going to Ealdor to fight for _me_ , a servant. And you had magic. If anyone deserved to have it, it was you."

There wasn't any particular emotion on Morgana's face, except for perhaps the shadow of a smile that flickered on her lips as she recalled the day she went to Ealdor.

"I wanted to tell you so badly, but… Well, my excuse was -is - that all my life I had been told not to tell anyone. Since I was a small child. I have always lived in fear. It's...it's not an easy thing to admit for me. And you're the king's ward, Morgana. Add that to the fact that the dragon insisted you were evil and I..."

He motioned to her. "I failed as a friend, and I chose not to tell you. And I'm sorry. But I'm telling you now. You're the first person from Camelot I've willingly told."

She stared at him evenly for a few moments. "So what now, Merlin? I can't stop. I'm too far gone. And I don't think you will stop protecting Arthur either."

"No."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why would you tell me this?"

"Because you deserve it, Morgana. You're still good. You trusted me and I hurt you. So now I'm trusting you."

"You're an idiot Merlin." She bit. "If I tell Arthur, you will be executed or exiled. Do you think he will forgive you? You just gave me the key to winning Camelot. What will she do without her protector?"

"Arthur wouldn't kill me. He would be hurt that I haven't told him. Conflicted. But he wouldn't kill me. Not that it would matter. Just know, Camelot will always have my protection."

Morgana bristled, working herself up again. "What has this kingdom done for you that I haven't? Why do they deserve your help anymore than I do?"

Merlin didn't answer her question, choosing to answer the unaired one instead. "I told you about my magic because we could find another way, Morgana. It doesn't have to be like this."

A moment came and went.

She sheathed her sword. "They'll be looking for me."

Merlin nodded.

They assessed one another until Merlin spoke."Will you tell Morgause?"

"I don't know." Morgana said.

Merlin nodded, and decided to grin, despite his rapidly beating heart. "Just remember, if Arthur banishes me, there will be no one to help him put on his night shift or keep his figure trim. The last time I was gone for more than twenty four hours he couldn't even find his sock drawer."

Morgana stared at him incredulously as he suddenly disappeared, taking the torchlight with him. She was in the moonlight again. Morgana almost couldn't help the giggle that came out of her mouth. She was horrified and confused, and very much in need of a nap. But she did wonder just how much Merlin had given up for Camelot. What was his play?

Arthur burst into the catacombs in a panic with wild eyes and she startled. When he saw her the relief on his face was somewhat… heartwarming.

"Morgana! You're safe!" His eyes wandered around the room and landed on the rowan staff. Her heart leaped up in panic, but he came to a different assumption than what she feared. "Did… did you stop the undead? With… that?" His eyes went to her sword.

She couldn't help but smirk a little. "Is it so surprising? I used to beat you in fights all the time when we were younger."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Okay... we have to tell father about this."

She nodded, clenching her jaw.

Arthur began to turn around towards the stairs but stopped and said something unexpected. "Morgana? Good job. I'm glad to have you back."

Her face made a humble smile, and she felt a small rush of affection for her brother. "I'm glad to be back."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Right, well, you wouldn't have happened to have seen my idiot manservant would you? He's always in the most unlikely of places after these sorts of things. Wouldn't have been surprised if he had tripped his way down here."

Morgana froze a little. She could have told him then and there Merlin's secret. Even blamed the staff on him. But she couldn't. Not yet. She had to strategize.

She laughed. "Not that I noticed."

They began to head up the stairs. Morgana knew only one thing. She would be sharing some more words with Merlin.

For better or worse, this was far from over.

But maybe… maybe they could find another way.


	2. Chapter 2

**WINTER**

 

The candles flickered in all of the ways that candles shouldn’t flicker -- just on the edge of being extinguished by a vengeful draft in her chambers, the light within a sharp contrast to the world outside. The moon hoisted itself up an inky Yuletide sky, brandishing light onto the courtyard of the castle, which itself was empty but for one or two couples chatting near the doors to the central hall. Music danced across the castle, but it had began to dwindle, sweeping inwards until there was no more music at all, just the silence of slumber. The feast had come to a successful finale. It was a feast marking the new year, which meant that she was fairly tipsy on wine. Red, of course, to suit the occasion.

Winter in Camelot was a wonderful affair most years. This year it was not. This year the snow struck firmly against the ground, obscuring what little was left of autumn’s remains with no small measure of ferocity. Under the barrage of snow that had been going on for weeks, it was perfectly natural for her to feel an inclination to drink more than usual. If only to do away with the boredom.

A part of her she very much resented suggested that maybe she was drinking away the nerves over her looming meeting with Merlin and not boredom. She dismissed the notion entirely, she chose instead to look out her window into the nothingness below. The city was slipping into sleep, and only the glow of hearthfires suggested life. It didn’t make for great sightseeing, but it was a tranquil enough image to make her think -- which was something she wanted to avoid entirely. Again she turned, this time away from the window, just in time to hear knocking at the doors of her chamber. Her heart answered with four knocks of its own, and her mind was quick to interject: was this worth it? Maybe it’d be better to just kill him and be done with it. She contemplated feigning sleep. Perhaps this conversation wasn’t worth having after all?

Morgana stomped her foot physically. What was she, some ditz? What would Morgause say about all of this? She was Morgana, daughter of Gorlois. She didn’t hide in her chambers. She wanted the truth. She wanted justice. She deserved a proper explanation of just about everything. And what she did with the information after… well, whatever she did, Merlin asked for it.

Morgana finished her wine and left the chalice by the bed. She took her time on her way to the door. Any discomfort she could cause the manservant was discomfort well-earned.

She opened the oak barrier and he stumbled in a little bit. His ears were bright red and she couldn’t tell if it was because he was embarrassed or because he, too, was a little inebriated. She was comforted by either of those two concepts. Even Merlin needed a drink to deal with nerves. But was it really surprising? And when had her idea of him shifted so very much? Before, she might have said that Merlin especially needed drinks to deal with nerves. She avoided him for weeks for a plethora of reasons, all valid (of course), but that one ranked high among them. She couldn’t yet properly reconcile the three versions of Merlin she had in her head.

Was he a bumbling, clumsy manservant? Was he a betrayer and a murderer? Or was he a creature so singularly powerful as to be capable of taking apart, with his hands, a conduit of magic forged by a deity?

She left the door open and moved back to her chalice, refilling it and taking a swig at it in quick succession. If anybody were to ask her, wine was without a doubt the greatest innovation in history.

Merlin closed the door behind him softly and offered a “Hello, Morgana.”

She wanted to shove him out the window. “Merlin.”

He glanced at the chalice in her hand with a good measure of longing and she smirked into her drink as she took it to her lips. For all that she was confused and angry, she was desperate for small victories. They were just about all she had. “Finally come about enough courage to explain yourself?”

That was unfair, and Morgana was well aware. She had been the one to avoid the meeting, but he wouldn’t call her out on it.

He raised an eyebrow, but that was all. Merlin took retribution by walking around her chambers with more confidence than he had the right to. Any lingering sense of clumsiness from him was quickly dispelled. His face and his body were a study in contrasts -- suspended between the face of a sorcerer, sharp eyes singularly focused on her, and the lean anticipatory stance of a servant, hands behind his back clasping each other, feet shoulder-width apart. Morgana wished very much that he would stick to one. Still, her remark got him into a liminal place. He had come as a servant. Or maybe it was actually just Merlin? Now she had to choose. Who did she want to talk to tonight? The Sorcerer or the Servant? Who had the answers she sought?

She decided on pawning off the decision to Merlin. “So, would you like to start off by talking about the time you killed me? Or maybe just everything that led up to that?”

There was much more bite in her comment than he had probably deserved, but if Merlin was of three natures then she was of four. Just because she refused to be out-classed. The weeks since Merlin’s confession had done very little in the way of softening the blow, let alone placating her. Her outrage festered faster than her peace with the past. But Morgana was seeking resolution and she was willing, perhaps foolishly, to give Merlin the benefit of the doubt.

He ignored her comment, and she was mildly infuriated that he, he, wanted to take the high road. “Well, I believe I’ve told you a fair bit about the circumstances that led up to my arrival here in Camelot.”

He took a seat at her table.

Morgana nodded and followed. She remembered. She replayed it in her head nightly. The scene had even come to dominate her dreams, despite Morgause’s dream bracelet.

“So, a dragon told you that you were meant for great things. That explains your self-righteousness, but it doesn’t do much to explain how you became Arthur’s manservant.”

He took the reigns, and settled back into being just Merlin. “Well I guess I should have known I was going to pay for calling him a prat, that first day. Yet here we are.

“It was really simple, actually. That poor woman, the witch, she wanted to kill Arthur. Naturally, I couldn’t let that happen. Even though Arthur really was a prat. I saved his life, and what was my prize? Servitude. On the bright side…”

Merlin took a moment. “Actually, you know what? Not much of a bright side. Arthur doesn’t even really pay me well. I suppose meeting Gwen was a good thing, but honestly, I had met her before I was Arthur’s manservant, so I don’t really think that counts?”

Morgana snorted. Surely the result of wine. Merlin raised an eyebrow at that, which she felt was a facial gesture likely acquired from being around Gaius too long. But the way he rambled? That was certainly one hundred percent Merlin.

“It’s interesting that you complain about Arthur so much and yet you’re so quick to defend him. Even at the cost of others.”

Merlin’s countenance withdrew upon itself a little at that, and Morgana found herself to mildly regret her remark. All things considered, this was the most pleasant they’ve been to one another in months. But she had to push him in the direction she wanted — the truth. Unfiltered, unadulterated. Admittedly she wanted this conversation to sting a little. If not her, then at least him. It’d feel almost unsubstantial if it didn’t. And this, this was anything but unsubstantial.

“I complain about him because he needs to hear it. I defend him because he’s my friend, Morgana. I don’t see the need for any more reason than that.”

She reached for some more wine and offered him the pitcher. His eyes glowed and the pitcher floated away from her hands and towards him. It poured its contents into his chalice.

The showmanship of magic was bold and offensive and utterly enchanting. Never before had Morgana seen magic used in such a frivolous, simple way. There was no flash of light, no puff of smoke.

“Did you have friends,” she asked, “before coming to Camelot?”

“I had Will,” Merlin said, “but aside from that I can’t bring to mind many more than that.”

“Will?” Morgana furrowed her brows. “Was he the sorcerer who saved us at your village? The one that…”

“The one that died?” His voice was even.

“Yes.”

He pulled at his drink. “Well technically, I was the sorcerer who saved Ealdor. He was just a great friend.”

“He took the blame for your magic as he died.”

“Like I said, Morgana. He was a great friend. And I guess in some regards there is more power in that sort of friendship than there ever was in any magic. I should know, I’ve had magic all my life.”

His implication was delightfully hypocritical. She made sure he knew. “Is there? Magic doesn’t betray. It doesn’t poison.”

“But magic doesn’t sacrifice itself for your sake either, Morgana. It doesn’t pretend to be a servant to protect you. It doesn’t scrub floors or clean stables.”

“Well, clearly it’s never done so for me, no. I wonder what makes me so undeserving.”

Merlin said nothing, and she became impatient with the quiet.

Morgana scoffed. “All of that power, and look at you… You kneel before mortal princes.”

“Yes, Morgana. I do. I’ve called forth lightning from the sky. I’ve commanded dragons. I’ve wielded a blade forged in a dragon’s breath.” He smiled. “And never in my life have I felt more powerful than I do when I stand by the side of a good man.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You get awfully philosophical when you’re drunk. Would you like to open a window next time you have a monologue to deliver? It’d complete the image.”

“And give you the opportunity to push me out of it? I don’t think so.”

Morgana wondered, briefly, if he had overheard her thought about doing just that earlier.

“You think Arthur is a good man?”

“Don’t you?”

She paused. “He will never allow magic in Camelot. It doesn’t matter what he is.”

“Sometimes achieving the greater good isn’t worth sacrificing good people.”

“Aren’t we sacrificing enough good people as it is, Merlin? Every time Uther hears anything to do with magic he goes on a killing spree. Innocent people damned for something so beautiful.”

Merlin groaned in exasperation. “Do you think I just twiddle my thumbs all day Morgana? I spend all of my time here helping sorcerers escape the dungeons. Or, at least the ones who aren’t, you know, trying to kill Arthur. Or the king. Or me. Which is a surprising minority of the sorcerers who come to Camelot.”

Morgana swirled her chalice and leaned forward, tilting her head. Her hair brushed against the wooden grain of the table. “Tell me about that.”

Merlin sighed. “Which one? The stories are plenty but the hours of tonight are very much not. You may not have a job Morgana, but I do. And waking up Arthur when he has a hangover is a feat worthy of its own feast so…”

“How many people have tried to kill Uther? Or Arthur?”

“A sizeable and diverse amount of people. From peasants to high priestesses. Even you gave it a go once.”

Morgana’s eyes sharpened onto him. “How did you know?”

Merlin shrugged. “I watched you choose against killing him. It was sweet, really. Not murdering him was awfully considerate.”

Morgana parted her lips but nothing came out. A moment passed. “You didn’t stop me?”

“I let you stop yourself.”

“Did you know that I would… that I wouldn’t kill him then?”

“Well, no. Yes. Actually, I had no idea. But I had faith.”

“You’re a fool, Merlin. And so am I. For not killing Uther then.”

“Yes, we’re both idiots. Will that be all for tonight?”

Merlin moved to the window she had stationed herself at earlier. He watched the night march on as flitting little snowflakes danced the distance from the sky to the ground. He made no move to leave.

Morgana stood up herself and neared the window as well, unsure if the burning she felt within was ire or wine. “I’m not the only one here with things to be ashamed of Merlin.”

Merlin turned to her. “I never said you were.”

“Well then why do you look at me like I’m some unfortunate black sheep?”

Her voice was low and thick with frustration. Merlin kept his eyes on hers, listening carefully.

A sigh. “Despite your conviction otherwise, not everything is about you, Morgana.”

She scoffed immediately. “Oh that’s just rich coming from you, isn’t it Merlin?”

“I don’t ask for these things to happen to me Morgana!”

“And that’s your problem isn’t it?” She sized him up. “You lack initiative.”

He glared. “And you lack perspective.”

More wine. “Then give me perspective, oh mighty sorcerer.”

Merlin was ready to bite back, but then “Did you call me ‘oh mighty sorcerer’?”

Morgana blinked. “I… yes?”

Merlin covered his mouth, eyes twinkling.

“That’s not funny Merlin, it’s insulting.”

His shoulder shook with laughter and a giggle broke free. Morgana was flustered and utterly bewildered as he began to laugh.

“Oh, that’s hilarious. If only Arthur could hear this.”

Slowly his laughter made her giggle involuntarily. “Merlin the Almighty Sorcerer. Who would have thought?”

He laughed harder until there were small tears collecting at his eyes. He wiped them away and they settled into silence.

It was a strange encounter, really. But it was a strange night, too. That the weather should be terrible on a great evening, that enemies laugh together, these are the sort of odd occurrences that make the world so genuine.

But were they really enemies? Merlin toyed with his chalice as the silence marched on with soft steps.

“I didn’t want this destiny, not at first.”

Morgana’s eyes settled on him.

“I told the dragon that Arthur couldn’t possibly be the right king. He said ‘Arthur will be the greatest king to ever live.’ I thought the dragon was crazy. I didn’t really believe until I drank the poison. Arthur risked his life to save me.”

She didn’t respond.

“And even after that I still doubted. At least a little. But he always proved himself when I wasn’t expecting him to. I never really had a lot of friends, growing up. It was just Will, really. So if Arthur isn’t the Once and Future King? I’d at least have made a good friend. But I think he is the king.” He stopped briefly, then said. “Do you remember when he helped us smuggle out Mordred?”

Morgana nodded. Her green eyes were focused. “Why did you help me?”

“Like I said, Morgana. I don’t twiddle my thumbs all day. My goal is to make sure Uther can’t cause any damage to anyone who doesn’t deserve it.”

She contemplated it for a time. “And you? Who’s going to stop you from doing damage to people who don’t deserve it?”

It was a sharp remark, but tonight wasn’t about making any sort of amends. Tonight was about discovering how deep the wound between them goes.

Merlin bit the inside of his cheek, and then grinned. “Gaius constantly tells me off if I don’t do things the right way, so I suppose he would be a significant safeguard against me dropping the ball.”

Damn him, it was back to this.

“You care for the old man a great deal.”

He raised an eyebrow. Like Gaius.

She was careful with her words. “Back in Ealdor, you introduced us to your mother but… we never got to meet your father.”

Merlin took a big swig of wine at that, and Morgana was briefly concerned that soon they’d run out of the fuel of the conversation.

He maintained his disposition. “To be fair, at that point, neither had I.”

“At that point?”

“I had the opportunity to meet him later on. Briefly.”

“Briefly?”

His smile was rueful. “Complicated.”

“Tell me about it.”

He raised an eyebrow, tapped his fingers on the wood of the table. “Any particular reason you want to know?”

She put a hand under her chin, and watched him. “Complicated.”

He shook his head. “When I released the dragon, there was only one person who could command him to cease his war against Camelot, a dragonlord. The last one. Take a lucky guess who it was.”

“Oh.”

“The power is passed down generation to generation. My father died in my arms. He took a blade meant for me.”

She surprised herself and moved her hand to his before thinking better of it. She settled for “I’m sorry.”

“What for? You were off with your sister by the time that happened. Not your fault.” He swirled his chalice. No more wine.

“Regardless, I got the man who did it. Not that it made me feel any better.”

Morgana knit her brows. “Did you…”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”  
He nodded, and silence followed.

Morgana cleared her throat to speak but whatever she meant to say came out in a whisper. “How many?”

“Enough for me to understand that I am not a good man, Morgana.”

She wasn’t sure what to say about that. As much as she had dreamed of putting an end to Uther, she had never had to actually kill or even hurt anyone. The idea that Merlin had… it was unsettling. But she should know, shouldn’t she? She was one of his victims, in a way.

His face was blank, but his eyes were clouded with regret. Or pain.

“Is that why you… you believe in Arthur so much? Because he’s a good man and you’re-”

“A monster?”

“That isn’t what I was going to say.”

He chuckled humorlessly. “Oh, wasn’t it?”

Merlin was withdrawing fast. She wished desperately that she hadn’t pushed him into exploring his own morality, but she was getting close. To what, she wasn’t sure. To something. Too bad she couldn’t conjure up anything to say.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person Merlin.”

He flicked his gaze over to her, and he maintained it.

She continued. “I just think…” Morgana offered a weak smirk. It was more of a bashful smile. “I think you’re just a little misled. A bit dramatic. Certainly self-righteous.”

He snorted, and she wondered at whatever spell she cast to lift the mood.

“You forgot to add charming, handsome, and utterly enchanting to that list.”

Morgana scoffed. “And arrogant.”

“An argument could be made for the word confidence being more suitable.”  
Morgana watched him as his gaze began to roam the room. “I’m sorry for pushing you about all of that, Merlin. It wasn’t… right.”

He shrugged. “I think we’ve both done a fair share of that.”

She nodded, and looked out the window.

Merlin observed, “It’s dark.”

She couldn’t quite bite back the remark. “Very astute of you Merlin.”

He grinned. “I know. I just can’t help being clever. But that said, I should be going now. It’s getting late.”

She smiled. “What’s the rush? Got a peasant girl waiting for you?”

Merlin laughed heavily. “I wish I had the time. But I’m always so busy stopping you from your scheming that I haven’t been able to do any romancing.”

This question was one posed out of sheer curiosity. It would hardly harm anyone. “Have you ever had a girlfriend, Merlin?”

“Uh… no? Well, definitely not at the village. And here in Camelot, I’ve been too busy for that. I suppose I had a small crush on Gwen at some point. But… I mean…” He swallowed and offered a name, but he spoke it so quietly that she couldn’t hear it.

“So there was someone?”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Her name was Freya.”

Was? Morgana’s heart dropped. Had she just stepped on another landmine in this conversation? Again?

“She died.” He explained. “I was in love with her, but it was all so fast that I wouldn’t call her a girlfriend.”

Morgana shouldn’t have felt as bad for Merlin as she did. He poisoned me she said in her mind, like a mantra. It brought up no emotion. She couldn’t bring herself to hate him for that anymore.

Merlin continued, answering her questions before she asked them. “She was cursed to turn into a beast at night by a sorceress. I freed her, and we were going to run away together. I was going to leave my destiny behind for her.”

He smiled a little. “Actually, I even stole one of your dresses for her. Arthur caught me with it and thought I was going to uh… wear it myself.”

Morgana covered her mouth. “And I missed that?”

Merlin chuckled. “You missed quite a bit, actually.”

“Why didn’t you leave with her, Merlin?”

“I tried. I was ready, but that night she turned into the beast, and Arthur and the Knights took her down.”

Morgana’s heart dropped.

“It’s not their fault. They didn’t know. I wasn’t fast enough, I didn’t know enough magic to prevent it at the time.”

“I’m sorry I brought that up Merlin, I didn’t mean to-”

He shook his head and gave her a closed-lip smile. “It brings me no more pain, Morgana. Whenever I think of her, I just remember the good parts.”

“What did she look like?”

“She was beautiful.” He meant to get up, and gave it a second thought. “She looked… like this.”

Merlin waved his hand in the space between them, and the sparks flew from the candle on their table, shaping themselves into the image of… Freya. The air shimmered with magic, hummed with hints of longing and peace. The sparks faded. There was nothing between her and Merlin now.

“That was beautiful.”

“I’m sure you’ve seen more impressive things by now, Morgana.”

Morgana was exhilarated by the magic show. Even still. Her sister had never done anything like that. Morgana only knew combat magic. Dark spells.

She shook her head. “Not things like that.”

Merlin watched her face for a moment or two, which gave her time to realize that they were fairly closer than she had thought.

“I can… teach you? Only if you want, that is. And only if you promise not to kill me with it.”

Morgana smirked. “You owe it to me anyways. We’re going to have to work on that last condition a little. I can’t quite promise anything so far as that’s concerned.”

He got out of his seat. “Good enough for me. I’m going to go now. I have to wake up the princess early tomorrow, so…”

“Good night Merlin,” she said.

He turned to her at the door. “Good night Morgana.”

And he was gone.

Morgana stayed at the table for some time, thinking. Merlin was… something else. But she understood now, to a degree, even if it was only a little, exactly who Merlin was. That would be enough.

They could find another way.


	3. Chapter 3

**FALL**

 

Illusions and conjurations and restorations, healings of all the things that matter. That’s what Merlin had taught her in that time. That precious time. Months now, almost a year since that night they had made reparations over wine and whispered confessions. She had learned to make of things that were not there, or not wholly there, things that were more whole than ever before. Her heart being one such thing, in one way or another...

Morgana had learned in that time also what it meant to be struck in a perpetual wonder of things. To appreciate the glory of all that wasn’t within her grasp. She quickly came to realize, under Merlin’s instruction, that he was fond of not knowing things as much as her sister was fond of knowing everything. It was a tremendous dichotomy of truths and Morgana wasn’t sure which one to hold on to. 

Despite all of her lessons with Merlin, despite helping him in the situations that came up every now and again, a large part of her did not fail to sympathize with her sister. That same side of her compelled her to attend every meeting Morgause arranged in the forest near Camelot, but the compulsion wasn’t nearly strong enough for Morgana to pay much attention to what Morgause planned or soliloquied about. 

Morgana had come to notice, during the past year, that Morgause was partial to monologuing. It was an ironic little quirk, and she firmly believed she only noticed it at all because of Merlin’s influence. He was constantly making such quippy little observations. He’d make one about how much time she spends thinking of him, or some of the things he says, but he was clueless as could be in that regard. Thank the gods for small graces.

Morgana walked into the forest’s clearing. She passed the fifth tree with a notch carved into its trunk and turned right. Morgause was there, waiting. 

“Hello, sister.”

“Morgause,” Morgana moved to hug her sister, and what she said as she held her close was true. “I’ve missed you.”

The sorceress agreed. “It’s been a long time.”

Morgana nodded warily, “Longer than usual. It’s been a month or two.” She pointed to the treescape around them. “Fall is rolling out now.”

Morgause offered a mysterious, mischievous smile. The sort that unsettled Morgana the most. Much as Morgana loved Morgause, her sister had a tendency to act a little erratically. Rashly, even. Her cool demeanor meant she had something up her sleeve. She did. 

“I’ve been planning,” said Morgause. “And now all my time and effort will be brought to fruition, sister. Has anything changed in the castle?”

Morgana offered the truth. “Everything has been the same. Not many invasions or attacks or anything of the sort, just the dreadful routine.”

Morgause’s smile was wicked now. “Good, then they won’t be expecting the trouble that’s coming for them.”

“What trouble?”

“The type that will put us on the throne, sister. The type that will bring Uther to justice.”

The idea would have once thrilled her. Part of it did. The thought of putting Uther to justice was more appealing than anything in the entire world could have been. But being on the throne? That was trickier. But that’s what she wanted, ultimately, wasn’t it? If they were on the throne magic could be returned to Camelot. 

Merlin wormed his little warlock words into her head. _It’s never that simple, Morgana._

It had been one of the many discussions they shared throughout the past year on the topic. For the most part they left it aside in favor of nurturing friendship, but it was a major issue. Clearly ignoring it had led to nothing. Morgana would have to make some decisions. 

Frankly, she didn’t want to. 

She cleared her throat and pulled nervously at the bracelet her sister had gifted her. “What’s the plan, then? When will we be attacking?”

Morgause’s smiled widened, it was malicious now. “The plan is not the typical affair. I’ve decided it was time to innovate, sister. Don’t you think? I see it as a great way to begin our reign.”

“Innovate?”

“I think I’m spent on armies.” Morgause moved around the clearing, glancing about the trees. “It’s all so boring. Seducing kings, killing them. And then on top of that I have to manage their armies. Even the undead ones are a handful.” She stopped short. Shook her head. “No. Enough of that. We’re High Priestesses of Magic itself, Morgana. I don’t believe we’ve been using it enough.”

Morgana shook her head. “I can’t seem to follow.”

“A small force. They’ll be expecting armies and brute forces. But subversion? Sneaking? A small team for infiltration. We’ll kill the Pendragons and take down the citadel.”

Morgana’s heart beat much faster. “You have a team?”

“No, we have a team Morgana.”

Morgana offered a shaky smile. “Yes, of course… when will we be attacking?”

Morgause looked to the sky. “It’s a full moon tonight.”

It was. The moon was starting to peek through. Morgana had come to the clearing right after supper with the king. It was dusk, but not dark. 

“Will we wait for the new moon?”

Morgause laughed. “A time of darkness? You always had a flair for the dramatic. We share that in common, you and I.”

She continued. “But no. We’re attacking tonight.”

Morgana’s heart dropped. She had run out of time. “Tonight?”

“I will see you at midnight, dear sister. By dawn we will be queens. We’ll be the saviors of every sorcerer in the land.”

“How will I know when to do my part? I’m not even sure what my part will be?”

“You’ll know when it’s time sister. I can’t share anything more.”

Morgana curled her fingers in frustration. She moved up to Morgause, imploring. “Don’t you trust me, Morgause?”

Morgause was astonished by the concept. She took Morgana’s fingers in her hand and said “Of course I do my darling. I trust you with my life. But the plan must succeed. It’s our only hope, you understand?”

Morgana nodded numbly. Morgause disappeared into the night with a curl of wind. The sun had set. 

Morgana ran back to the castle. 

**~{(0)}~**

“Merlin!” 

She had burst right through the door to Gaius’ chambers. The old man startled from where he was, presumably pouring over a text on medicine. It was a gift Merlin had given him recently. She recalled its spine and binding. Merlin had talked to her about it for weeks.

“Ah, Lady Morgana. I did not expect you at this hour. You haven’t had a resurgence of your dreaming, have you?” 

His eyebrows suggested something Morgana did very much not like him suggesting. She blushed anyways. “I came to see Merlin.”

“Now that’s a surprise.” The old bastard knew it wasn’t, and she did not appreciate being teased over it at all. “Unfortunately, it seems that Merlin is still with the Prince. He hasn’t come in yet.”

She said “I see” and left the room. Morgana was annoyed at the pace she walked at, but within the citadel she had to keep up appearances of grace. The walls had eyes. 

It didn’t take too long to find Arthur and Merlin. She heard their bickering from two halls down from where she was, and they were approaching her. 

“Arthur, it’s impossible to do.”

“Now, Merlin. That might be the case for your, but fortunately for me, I am not an idiot.”

“Actually, you know what your Highness? Please, by all means. I invite you to -- Morgana.”

She had basically run into them, her feet moving quicker and quicker as their half-hearted disagreement sounded around the corner. “Merlin!”

Arthur bristled at the lack of acknowledgement. “Morgana? What are you doing all the way over here?”

“I need Merlin.” Her tone was final. She had presumed Arthur’s protest at having his servant whisked away. She didn’t pay much mind at the way that Merlin flushed when she said that. She didn’t pay it much mind at all. Really.

Arthur began the slow process of forming a witty remark, but Merlin cut him off with a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. As your friend, I’m bound to express my complete confidence that you’ll live two minutes without me. Beyond that, though…”

The prince narrowed his eyes a little but broke into a grin not long after. “Don’t you know Merlin? I can live up to even a whole three hours without you by my side. As a matter of fact, I’m willing to put it to a test. You can clean the stables for a few hours tomorrow, all alone.”

Merlin groaned and began a remark that sounded suspiciously like “clotpole” before Morgana tugged at his sleeve and guided him away. 

“All things considered, I think I won that one.” 

She could hear the mild smile in his voice, but she couldn’t bring herself to share in the humor. Her heart trembled, uneasy.

An alcove a few corridors down proved to be a perfect spot for the sort of conversation they were going to have. Moonlight filtered in through an opening in the walls, and it illuminated Morgana’s face grimly. Light caught in the green in her eyes which were wrought with desperation. 

“What’s going on Morgana? Have you had a dream?”

“It’s Morgause.”

Merlin tensed. “Did you meet with her again?”

She’d told him she hadn’t in other occasions, just to circumvent the very argument brewing in the alcove. “Yes.”

“I see.”

“Merlin…”

“You’re going to have to make a choice Morgana. You know this. I won’t force you either way, but there are forces out there that would have your choice removed.”

“Maybe they’re right?”

“You’ve never been the sort to believe in Destiny before.”

“And you’ve always been the first to believe in it.”

“Things changed over this last year Morgana.”

She looked out through the opening, staring down at the city that had adopted her with open arms. In a few hours, for better or worse it could belong to her. 

“So what do you believe in Merlin?”

“I believe in _you_ , Morgana.”

She spun around to look into his eyes, but the customary depths of blue were exchanged for flashes of gold. He had a finger to his mouth. “Shhh.” He pointed through the entrance of the alcove, beyond which stood two people. Arthur and Guinevere, exchanging soft words and chuckles. Shy and sweet. “And I believe in them,” Merlin whispered.

She looked to him once more, his eyes twinkled in the moonlight. Maybe it was hope. Whenever she was around him she could feel it too. 

Morgana extinguished it. “Morgause is attacking. Tonight.”

His eyes stopped shining. 

“I don’t know what to do Merlin,” she continued. 

“We have to do the right thing Morgana.”

This. It was always this. “I think you and I have different definitions of what it means to do the right thing.”

“I can’t -- I won’t let you kill Uther.”

“So you’re still willing to let others suffer for--”

“You know for a fact Morgana that hasn’t happened here in a long time. We’ve been able to prevent instances like that. By working _together_. Don’t pretend this isn’t about something more.”

She bit at the inside of her cheek and looked away from him again. She moved on. “Morgause is attacking with a smaller force of powerful sorcerers. Their aim is to infiltrate the citadel and take control subtly.”

He nodded. Merlin looked calm, but in the small space of the alcove she could feel his legs tapping on the ground incessantly. He was itching to go plan something. He stayed. “And what is your role going to be in this, Morgana?”

“I.. I don’t know. She told me that I’d know when it was time.”

He sighed and slapped his hand against his forehead. “It never ends.” Merlin joined her in looking out the window, but only briefly. He clapped his hands together once, loudly, obnoxiously. “Right then, let’s get on with it.”

She didn’t move.

“Oh come on now. You can be dramatic later. Or actually, just it get it all out now. Deliver a monologue into the open night. I wouldn’t want you delivering any when we kick your sister’s arse.”

She glared at him, but a small smile played at her lips. “I think I’m starting to sympathize with Arthur.”

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s character growth on your part and I think you should thank me.”

She _had_ grown to sympathize with Arthur more recently. And not just about Merlin’s infuriating remarks. She had come to see that he had the potential to be a great man. 

Her smile faded into melancholy and her eyes shined, but not with any measure of hope. “I’m not sure what to do.”

Merlin took her hand. “Like I said, Morgana. I believe in you. And whatever happens... I’m grateful to have been your friend. Even if it was just for this year.”

She stared down at where their fingers touched, she felt Merlin’s magic thrumming just under the surface of his skin, pulsing like it had a heartbeat of its own. The connection was golden and sparkling and all too brief. 

“She’s my sister, Merlin.”

He sighed. “I know. But I have a duty. My place is by Arthur’s side-”

Morgana grabbed his arm. “Can’t something be sorted out?”

“There’s nothing to be sorted out. You know that.”

Her eyes flickered with annoyance. “Now you’re an absolutist? Aren’t you always the one saying that we can find another way Merlin?”

“That’s not-”

“Or is it just that we can only find another way if it’s _your_ way?”

“Morgana, please.”

She scoffed in disgust. “Forget it. You’re a self-righteous ass Merlin.”

He intoned once more, calmly, _maddeningly_ “It’s the only way.” 

Morgana looked right into his eyes. “Do you really believe that?”

A moment. “It must be.”

She stepped back, keeping her eyes on his. “I just want to keep us safe, Merlin. I want to give us a chance at happiness. At living a life unafraid.”

Morgana turned out into the corridor, but Merlin caught her arm. “What role will you be playing in this, Morgana?”

“I told you I don’t know, Morgause said-”

“What role do you _want_ to play in this Morgana?”

She stared at him, tears collecting in her eyes. She swept away without answering. 

**~{(0)}~**

There was fire and tremors and terror abound for the noble blood of Camelot. Morgause’s “silent and stealthy” attack on Camelot proved to involve a few more pyrotechnics that Merlin imagined. It was something about the citadel. Its white, tall, untarnished walls. Surely it begged for destruction from a vengeful witch. A castle so glorious surely couldn’t belong to a king with so much blood on his hands.

The attack was well-orchestrated. Arthur’s forces were stretched thin and Merlin was stretched even thinner. Despite the bountiful warning, it was a struggle to get Arthur to listen without asking too many questions, and it was even more of a struggle to assemble a group of knights as late as it was. 

“Arthur!” Merlin said.

The prince heard his bellowing and ducked down without even thinking about it. He swiped at the feet of the would-be assassin. 

A sorcerer turned up from around the corner, a ball of flame in his hands. 

Arthur insisted “Merlin! We have to retreat into the throne room.”

Merlin’s heart dropped. “We can take him.”

The sorcerer, dressed entirely in black, let out a nasty grin and extinguished the fires that lit the corridor and darkness consumed their vision. 

“Merlin?”

“I’m here!”

A fireball zoomed past him and flared out as it struck a body next to him. Merlin heard a pained scream and the sound of metal hitting the floor. “Arthur!”

He threw his hands forward and closed his eyes. He felt for a presence with his magic and felt the sorcerer approaching. Merlin was certain that he was doing something similar because he felt the figure stop short and prepare a spell. 

Merlin lunged at him with a sword and struck his abdomen. His body broke the fall, but the blade was shattered by the weight and the hilt bruised one of Merlin’s ribs. Grunting in pain, he willed the torches to come alight. 

“Arthur, where are you?”

Merlin stood up uneasily against a wall and made his way towards the prince. Arthur was standing up shakily. His armor was singed and his face was grimy. “My father, we have to…”

The warlock nodded and raised his friend’s arm over his shoulder, guiding him towards the throne room with the certainty that Morgause planned for them to do exactly that. He went anyways. The door was ajar, but only because Morgana and most of the remaining guards had just gone in. They were fortifying it against attacks as best they could. Merlin caught her eye from across the room. 

“Arthur!” Uther said. “What happened to you?” He looked at Merlin and barked. “Explain!”

The prince answered for him. “We were defending the north corridor father. Merlin killed a sorcerer but there’s bound to be more.”

Uther swept his hand in the direction from where they came.“Close those doors! Barricade them as best you can and get in your formations.”

The room was busy with all sorts of people. It was nearly full to the brim with nobles and soldiers and the anxiety of an attack. Merlin didn’t see or hear Morgana come up by his side what with all the chatter. 

“You can’t stop this alone.”

He looked at her intently. “I’m not alone.”

“I won’t stop her, Merlin. But…” Morgana busied herself helping one of the older nobles and a few servants find a place to sit. “I’ll try to minimize the damages.”

“Morgana...”

“It’s the best I can do.” 

His head dropped. “I see.”

Merlin looked her in the eyes and she hurried off. He was alone for the first time in a long time. 

The room shook with a tremor more ferocious than the previous one. Darkness crept in and nervous whispering ensued. Uther demanded silence and barked commands at his sorcerers. Merlin sensed for Morgana’s magic. It had become familiar now, and he did not struggle much in placing her in the room. 

She stood by one of the arcades that lined the windows. Despite this, she was perfectly calm when they exploded into the room. Screaming ensued, but no sooner had it started than silence swallowed the chambers. It was a contrived quiet, the works of a sorcerer. Nobody had even heard the rest of them bombard their way through the chamber door. The only warning Merlin had was the glow of a growing flame in the distance. Morgause wanted to roast them all alive. 

So much for subtle.

Merlin looked to Morgana in desperation and she gave him a slight nod. Tears had slipped down her cheek. She would only help him to an extent. He wasn’t willing to test the limits. 

Dismantling the ball of fire ferociously flying its way towards the hall was an act of extreme will and Merlin struggled to make his efforts unnoticeable. The enchantment of quiet upon them served in his favor in this regard, but it was a bigger burden than it was a boon. Somebody would get hurt because the sorcerers were too quiet and too well hidden to be fought. 

The flame was smothered in the air, and Merlin only just had time to cancel the silence charm before Morgause prepared another spell. Merlin kept low to the ground as the soldiers began shouting orders at each other. He couldn’t see Arthur, but he was sure the prince was somewhere in the front. Fighting, even blind. 

Merlin fixed the lighting situation by summoning a floating orb into the air. It became bright enough to see that they were in a rather difficult situation. Twelve sorcerers in all, not including Morgause, had the chambers surrounded. 

He would be revealing his magic today. There were very few ways for him to do anything even remotely useful without it being obvious. Part of him wanted to blame Morgana, but she was right. Despite proposing that she could choose her path, Merlin had been strong-arming her into his way of thinking. Before, he would have been comfortable with this. It was for the greater good, no? But these days Merlin respected Morgana’s autonomy more than the greater good. If this was her choice -- at least it was hers. 

Now able to see where they were and who they were fighting, the knights moved into action in a flurry of yelling and the _clinking_ of armor. He kept by Arthur’s side in the middle of things, discreetly trying to take down any sorcerers he could, or impede on their progress. Morgause was nowhere to be seen yet, but he expected her soon. 

Merlin spotted a sorcerer preparing to attack the group of nobles and blasted him across the room with a flick of his wrist in his direction. Merlin did it with such vociferous conviction that the back wall was marred by a new opening into a hallway. The majority of the nobles scurried through the hole. 

None of the knights saw him, but plenty of the sorcerers did. Seven remained of the original twelve, and they almost all began to converge on him. Across the room Morgana’s eyes widened and she began weaving an enchantment. Merlin abandoned the remains of his desire to hide his magic as he desperately battled against the onslaught of spells and curses. 

Morgana’s enchantment proved to be among her greatests so far. Mist rolled in from nowhere and swept them up in grey. Only Merlin and the sorcerers could see one another. The knights were blinded and further immobilized by the sparking, crackling, and popping of sparks in the air. They took strange forms of creatures long since gone from the world. 

This gave Merlin just enough breathing room to defend himself. He motioned at one of the sparks in the air and fanned flames into it from his hands. The spark-beast, potentially a hydra, came to life with vigor and began an assault on the assailants. 

The fire beast was enough to paralyze some of the attackers, but it soon grew so large that it escaped Merlin’s control entirely. It raged across the room. 

Morgana watched in horror as it moved towards the knights. She took the reins on the enchantment from across the room, guiding it towards sorcerers amassing in the corner to form a spell. She snuffed the oxygen out of the air around it. She gathered the clouds in the room and sent it their way, condensing it until it began to soak their efforts.

Merlin smiled at her, but she watched him warily. The knights began to converge on the remaining sorcerers in the corner, but one of the columns by the window toppled over Arthur and Uther’s path. They were isolated. That was no accident. That was the work of Morgana. 

Rain barraged the interior of the throne room. It had begun to storm at some point, but Merlin was so caught up in himself he hadn’t noticed. He ran towards Arthur, jumping in front of him just as a bolt of lightning struck from outside. Morgause appeared in the room with a rush of wind. 

The breeze of the rain was cold and sharp against his skin and his sides ached too much for him to bother breathing. He hadn’t died because a shield of shimmering energy had protected him, it had the texture, the fingerprint of Morgana’s magic -- and her indecision.

Merlin stumbled up as Morgause approached Arthur and the king and laughed with mad, almost drunken glee. Morgause was the sort to indulge herself with abandon, but Merlin had no doubts she would reserve any indulging until after Arthur and Uther’s heads were on sticks outside the castle walls. They had escaped her clutches too many times. No chances would be taken.

As he weakly leaned against a wall, Merlin wondered if he could let them escape just one more time. Arthur watched him with horror from where he stood as Merlin drew a sword, bloody at the hilt, from the ground.

“Merlin! Don’t!”

Merlin threw the sword, knowing it wouldn’t even make the halfway mark. It was more of a distraction than it was an attack. There was only one course of action now. 

Merlin tapped deep into the roots of his being, reaching for a part of him that had been smothered and oppressed for as long as he could control it. He felt the heat under his skin flare up. He opened his eyes, which he was sure were blazing gold, only to find himself inside of an illusion. The world around him sounded distant and muddled, like he was listening from underwater. 

Morgana was shaping the world around them to a two-fold image. In the right light, he caught glances of her fighting him with all her might. In another, he saw his prone figure on the ground as Morgana assaulted Morgause with a sword. 

He understood one was for the benefit of Morgause, and the other was to hide his magic from Arthur and Uther. 

The reality, however, was that Morgause stood five feet from him, looking down imperiously, a vision of Morgana standing by her side with an evil glint in her eye. Merlin caught his second wind and began attacking Morgause with more vigor than he had ever fought anyone. Fire and bolts of lightning struck out around the throne room, blazing energy was exchanged in flurries of blasts.

Morgause’s spells were all tremendously flashy affairs, but Merlin preferred the indirect approach mostly. He shifted the wooden floor around her, disbalancing her as best he could. The debris of glass and stone began to form into golems. Morgause’s eyes widened and her attention was shifted, momentarily, to the task of a fist of glass making its way towards her. 

She let loose a scream and a radius of light emanated from her body instantly. The golems were pulverized completely and Morgana’s illusions fell apart. Merlin and Morgause stared at one another from across the throne room. Morgana stood by the window, wind blowing at her hair, darkness framing her figure. 

She knew for certain that Merlin and Morgause’s confrontation was one of a final variety. There was little choice left to either of them now, and all the choices came down to her. Merlin or Morgause? 

But despite Merlin’s newfound absolutism, Morgana’s thoughts tended back to his hopeful words in the Catacombs of Camelot, such a long time ago. And yet, not. The promise of another way. She fiddled with her sleeping charm in a brief flare of anxiety. 

For a moment, she felt something akin to what Merlin had described as the sensation of time coming to a stop. This, she was sure, was not the work of magic. 

The flickering sparks of magic Merlin had shown her that drunken winter night, the image of Freya he had conjured resounded within her. Not all magic was lethal. Not all spells need be. 

Her eyes snapped towards Morgause as she toyed with her charm. 

“Sister!” she shouted. 

Morgause glanced at her in time to catch the sleeping bracelet she had crafted for Morgana. In a flash of light, the sleeping spell shattered itself free. Her sister’s body dropped to the ground, the bracelet nothing but pieces of charred metal. 

Knights began to rush in as rain continued to pour through the opening where stained glass used to be. Uther and Arthur stared at her dumbly, but Uther was the first to begin making demands. Morgana ignored him as she made her way to her sister’s prone form. Morgause’s chest rose and fell in even breathes. Morgana sighed in relief and fell to the ground, spent. 

“Sorcery!” Uther shouted. “M-”

“It was me” Merlin said, limping from his place. “I did it.”

Arthur stood up, made his way towards his friend. “Merlin. What are you doing? This is ridiculous.” 

Merlin shook his head.“No Arthur. It was me.” His eyes flashed gold and the form of a dragon shimmered in front of Arthur, taking flight soon after. “I’m sorry,” he continued, “that I didn’t tell you. You’re my friend and I should have told you.”

“Guards!” Uther ordered.

Morgana’s heart dropped. Her throat constricted itself and she could barely whisper his name. “Merlin, no. Please.”

Nobody heard her, except for him. 

 _I’m sorry, Morgana. I can’t let you live in fear of Uther. Not for my sake._ His voice was clear and strong in her head. 

 _Please_ she said.

_Take care of the prat. Don’t let him hate me._

_Merlin why are you doing this?_

_Because._ He smiled at her from his place in the room as the guards began to converge on him and Arthur pleaded with his father to stop it. _I trust you, Morgana._

Merlin stepped towards Morgause’s form, and kneeled down. He took her hand and they were gone in a flurry of wind.

Chaos broke out in the throne room as Morgana stared at the ground in disbelief. She stayed that way for some time. But Merlin spoke in her head once more, his voice soft and intimate. They faded as he went off into distances she knew not. 

_Talk to Gaius. He will know what you must do. In the meantime, I’ll keep your sister safe, Morgana. There’s a lesson, a hope that I gave you once. It was the most important one. I’m sorry I failed my end of it. There’s always another way._


	4. Chapter 4

**SPRING**

The coming of the golden flowers and red roses of spring was a welcome thing. Winter had come and gone quickly that year, by the measure of farmers and foresters. To some, however, the cold lingered longer than it was wanted. For those, their winter was measured in misery. These sorts awaited hope. The sorts such as those who lived within the white walls of Camelot, that crown jewel of a city. They needed spring more than anyone else. So the rejuvenation of the lands in all the world was a doubly welcomed one, for the new winds might bring news from Merlin.

"My lady, won't you eat?" said Gwen. She held a basket of clothing in her hands, poised at her hips as she leaned over to look at Morgana. She addressed her like a superior, but watched her with the eyes of a steadfast friend.

Morgana turned from her post near one of the grand windows of her chambers. "I'm not so hungry, Gwen. Thank you."

Gwen gave her a soft smile. "He'll be back, Morgana."

"I don't think he will, Gwen. He would have been in touch by now."

"It was a strong winter."

"He's a strong warlock," Morgana pointed out.

"Ah, right..."

Morgana sighed. "I'm sorry, Gwen. It's unfair for me to take it out on you. It's just lonely now."

Gwen cleared her throat and spoke softly. "It must be stressful, taking up Merlin's… duties."

Morgana moved to her bed, took a seat. "I'm not even sure how on Earth Merlin did it. Arthur is a  _magnet_  for trouble."

"Well it certainly helped that he spent a majority of his daylight hours with him anyways."

Morgana laughed, it was dry but the inklings of humor were there. "Which I refuse to do."

Gwen sat by her, and grabbed her hand. "You're doing wonderfully Morgana, Merlin will be proud."

Morgana scoffed. "Merlin's an idiot. I'd tell him so, but he isn't even here for me to do that. And in any case… Arthur's gotten injured far more often. I have to find a way to keep him safe without me being there. Or drag Merlin back by those great big ears of his." She huffed.

"He's still quite alive. Arthur's injuries have never stopped him from bouncing back."

Morgana looked at her friend slyly, "I'm sure it helps that he has such enthusiastic help."

The maidservant blushed and started to put together a response, but a tapping at the windows interrupted her rebuttal. "Morgana, look… it's a falcon."

Morgana rushed there, released the latch and allowed the elegant creature entrance. Mighty but lithe wings carried it to a desk where it dropped off a letter. It ruffled its feathers, bold and bronze, and took off in graceful flight - skimming over fresh breezes.

Morgana's hands opened the sealed letter in a flurry, taking time to note, briefly, the bright blue of the wax. She scanned through it quickly.

Gwen leaned over. "What does it say?"

Morgana smiled.

**~{(0)}~**

"This is ridiculous."

"You're a child, Arthur."

"And you're a lunatic, Morgana. We've been walking for hours. Father's going to be asking soon."

"This is more important than your comfort."

"And that! You haven't even told me what we're doing."

Morgana rounded on him. "It has to do with Merlin."

She registered pain flickering in his eyes, but he cleared his throat and looked away before she could capitalize on it. "I told you, Morgana. I don't want anything to do with that. If he wanted to see us, he would've figured something out himself."

"He's your greatest friend."

"He's a liar, and a terrible servant anyways."

She glared at the prince. "And a good man."

"Good men don't lie about-"

"Oh come on, Arthur! You've got to understand-"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. That's final."

Arthur took a deep breath, and looked around the clearing they had stepped into. His head was drawn towards a voice that came from the trees.

"Well I suppose you're right on account of me being a terrible servant. I only delayed so much because I wasn't too keen on folding your underwear."

The voice was familiar, teasing, and a little ethereal. Confident. The accompanying figure was garbed in blue and reds familiar to both the nobles, but the cut of the cloth was trim and carefully done. The fabric flowing and long. He stood by an old and withered tree, touching it gently like a friend. His eyes, like glimmering oceans cast in shades of wizened blue, sparkled with mirth and joy. It was a comfort to behold him at long last.

Arthur, being nearest, pulled him in for an embrace and held him tightly for a long moment. Letting the warlock go, he commented on something that had slipped his notice. "By grace Merlin… have you grown a beard? It's like there's a mitton on your face."

Merlin ignored the remark entirely - he had caught sight of Morgana in the streams of sunlight that adorned the clearing. Her eyes were wide and shining, but she did not move.

He stepped into her arms and wrapped her up in a strong embrace, an embrace she accepted and returned with equal longing. Merlin set aside a strand of soft, dark hair and whispered in her ear "I have something to show you. I think you'll be proud."

She nodded against his chest, but she did not speak and they did not move. It wasn't until Arthur, who had studiously been observing every detail of the trees in the opposite direction, cleared his throat that they let go.

"Well this is all well and lovely Merlin, but where've you been staying? Not a hovel I expect?"

Merlin shook his head, laughed. "No, not a hovel. Come."

**{(0)}**

"Frankly Merlin, when you said it wasn't a hovel, I actually believed you had come across better accommodations. I'm not sure if you've noticed…" Arthur glanced about him with an abundance of obnoxious self-righteousness. "There's nothing here."

They stood at the edge of a forest, staring out into the opening of a large and mighty lake. It was framed by mountains, stout and white-capped, and tranquility, calm and quaint. Only the song of birds and the quiet drop-drumming of dew on fresh green leaves made any noise.

Merlin smirked, and stepped closer to the shore. "Come on, then."

Morgana didn't hesitate. She moved forward, her feet brushing water. Arthur raised an eyebrow, crossed his arms. "We have to swim?"

Morgana challenged him. "Aren't afraid of a little water are you Arthur?"

He scoffed, but moved forward anyway. Annoyance filtered through his eyes, but it was a weak veil for burning curiosity and a sense of adventure he had missed in Merlin's absence.

Arthur waded into the water doubtfully, but as he walked further in, he found that he didn't sink down at all. He stood on the surface of the water. "Merlin!"

The response was quick and annoyingly smug. "Look down, Arthur."

"I already am, you bloody-" Arthur looked up from his boots to bellow at his friend, but found upon raising his head that he was not on a lake but a landmass. An isle seated in the middle of the empty lake he had seen mere minutes ago.

The trees around them were hardy pines, reaching skyward, and they opened up a passage ahead from where they stood. Music filtered through the opening of the path, sprinkled faintly with laughter and busy-noise.

"Merlin?" Arthur repeated, staring at his surroundings in disbelief.

"Magic" said Merlin, patting the prince on the shoulder. "Let's go."

They began moving forward, Morgana trailing behind, admiring the leaves of the trees, the unique construct of the bark, threaded with age and wisdom. The presence, the sentiment, of home lurked in every blade of grass, every speck, every shade.

Merlin beckoned her on from where he and Arthur stood. He watched her careful deliberation with fondness. It was well-merited deliberation, but she was merely tasting the beginnings of the emotions to come. They had some ways to travel still, and he was excited for her to feel what he has felt every waking hour in the time he has been there. The Isles of the Blessed called him forward.

He spoke in her mind.  _Come, Morgana. You need to see this._

She tore her eyes away from the greens, turned them his way.

 _I feel nostalgic, but I don't know why,_ she said.

He smiled and began walking. He gave Arthur a small shove to nudge him out of his own reprieve.

"It's a beautiful forest Merlin. Good for hunting, don't you think?"

Merlin agreed with the first half of the statement, not so much the second half. But it was Arthur's way of connecting, so he said "Just stay away from the unicorns this time around."

The prince rolled his eyes and readied a remark to fire, but found himself silenced by their arrival at the edge of the forest.

Before them was a vision of merriment and joy, festivity and bustle. Market stalls and humble homes littered either side of the cobblestone path leading them away from the trees, a path uninterrupted except for a fountain ahead. The water it spouted glimmered in the sunlight, its construction shined with charisma. Haphazard white stones, carefully uncaringly placed, composed its entirety.

Around the fountain concentrated larger homes and hearthfires, brightly colored tents that sat by oaks with banners tied around their trunks. Children ran about, snapped magic sparks at one another like pebbles, gleeful giggles bursting from them when sparks caught their clothes.

All of this served only as a foreground to a magnificent keep, humble in size but tall in stature. It emanated power. The keep was nothing like Camelot's citadel, which had power aplenty, but little subtlety in its brandishing, whereas the very heart of the Isle pulsed proudly with tranquility.

Morgana stopped short when a child threw a spark her way, Arthur tensed, but Morgana picked it up from where it fizzled on the ground, tossed it back. The child offered a toothless grin and ran off.

Tears streamed down her face. Magic had been denied her and Merlin all their lives. To see it on such innocent, delightfully blatant display sung to her soul. She felt fulfilled and crushed and utterly joyful all at once. She could not but sit by the fountain and let her tears fall in the water. Morgana held her reflection's gaze, wondered if this was the moment her entire existence was meant for. She felt free.

This was beauty beyond which any Morgause had promised, beauty made all the more true by its peaceful acquisition. A moment like this could only have been won with softness and patience. Any land, any aim achieved with violence would have had its sanctity tarnished in its achievement. But this? This was…

Arthur stood by her side, worried. She gave him a bright and dazzling smile, watery as it was. He relaxed a little, and gave her time to collect herself.

A crowd gathered and Morgana wondered if she had made a spectacle of herself, but her fears were soon dismissed and curiosity soon alit. Folks in fair and colorful clothing gathered around Merlin, greeted him in tongues. Druids. He was graceful in receiving them, though the tips of his ears still bloomed red. They regarded him with kindness and deference. Respect and familiarity.

Arthur walked up to his friend between greetings, pulled him aside as Morgana began to make introductions herself.

"Is this who you've always been, Merlin?"

"A warlock?"

"No. A leader."

Merlin swallowed away sudden emotion, He spoke to his friend with sincerity. "No, not always. I didn't learn to lead until I came to Camelot. I learned everything I ever needed to learn about it from you."

Arthur's eyes glistened, and he did not trust himself to speak. He squeezed Merlin's shoulder once, gave him a nod. They moved to gather Morgana.

**{(0)}**

The tower-keep that pulsed with power even from a distance was not nearly as imposing when viewed from the inside, though it certainly emitted power. Wooden floors were a welcome contrast to the stone walls around them, walls that stretched ever-upwards. A spiral case of stairs would have stepped them to levels far above, but Merlin shook his head. He pointed to a corridor that led a fair ways away from the entrance.

They followed, torchlight guiding them. Morgana felt her inner core respond to something in the air as they moved deeper into the corridor. She wasn't sure, but it felt very much like they were going downwards. The magic around them was stifling, but not dangerous. It felt like breathing while lying facing downwards. The sensation of peace she experienced in the forest pervaded her senses now, five times as strongly. Tranquility resounded in her being.

Nobody spoke for some time, not even Arthur. Finally, when it had felt like they were just shy of forever away from their starting place, Merlin broke the silence.

"Don't mind the darkness, just give it a moment," he said.

Arthur and Morgana blinked once, then twice, as they entered the tower-keep's heart, but still darkness composed the whole of their vision.

Morgana saw first. It was a finely decorated interior for a tomb. Luminous specks of dust kept everything aglow, as if the world around them was too fragile for the natural light of day. It was a hue of blue, like the shade of lightning. Almost white-hot. She reached out and touched one. It was perfectly cool.

Merlin whispered a word and torches came alight around them, the blue hues now mixing with the orange of flame. The play of colors was beautiful in its own right, but Morgana was too busy staring at her sister's prone body to appreciate the lighting situation.

Morgause was resting with her arms crossed on her stomach, lying on what looked like an altar. Morgana was almost afraid to touch her. Would she be alive?

She wasn't sure what she was more terrified of. She stared at Morgause for some time, until she noticed… It wasn't obvious, but her sister was breathing softly. Her stasis spell had worked.

Morgana turned to Merlin and brought him into a crushing hug.

"I'm sorry-" he started.

She interrupted, put him at arm's length and held him there. "When my sister awakens, she will come to a better world. Thank you Merlin."

Morgana glanced at her sister once more.

Merlin nudged Arthur. "Let's go Prince Prat, I have some people that want to meet you" he whispered.

They gave Morgana a moment with her sister.

**{(0)}**

Merlin and Arthur trekked their way up the staircase. Merlin toured Arthur around every level. Interesting and unique things occurred in each, but it wasn't until they reached the fifth floor that Arthur interrupted.

"Merlin. Let's take a break here."

It was an opportune place to stop. The level was empty.

"Oh come on now Arthur, don't tell me you're getting thick around the waist already, I've only been gone-"

Arthur rolled his eyes. Glanced about the room. It was cast in colorful lighting through stained glass windows on both the left and right sides.

He ignored Merlin's remark entirely. "Why didn't you tell me about your magic Merlin?"

Merlin's face withdrew a little. "Arthur..."

"Friends don't lie to one another Merlin, and you've been lying since we met."

Merlin cast his eyes down. "I know, but it was the only way to-"

"Oh enough with that. Morgana told me about all the times you've saved my hide." Arthur sighed. "When Morgana told me about her magic - when I saw  _you_  use magic - I had to do a lot of unlearning concerning my knowledge of…" He motioned at the room around them.

"I just need to know why you didn't trust me, Merlin."

"It's not that I didn't trust you Arthur. It's just..." Merlin sighed, exasperated. "Complicated. I think the word for it is cowardice."

Arthur watched him steadily. "I'm not angry Merlin. Morgana and Gwen helped me sort through my…" He cleared his throat. "Feelings, about the subject.

"But it's important to me that you know, I would never have harmed you for your magic. Not even before I knew about Morgana's as well. You're my friend, Merlin. You must know I will always have your back." He clasped Merlin's arm with a firm thud. "Always."

A moment passed between them. Merlin broke out in a grin. "So… Gwen helped you sort your feelings I see."

Arthur hit Merlin up the back of the head. "Just walk."

They claimed two more levels, and arrived at the very top of the tower. There was gathered a council. It was a strange assortment of individuals. Old and bearded men, old and not-bearded women. All gave off the impression of leaders. All were sorcerers. Arthur couldn't help but be fairly intimidated. But Merlin stood by his side, proud and tall.

"All rise for Prince Arthur," he said.

The council rose.

**{(0)}**

The meeting was long and eventful, and afterwards Merlin felt an inclination to see Morgana. He searched for her first in the tomb, but Morgause slept on, alone. The next logical step, of course, was perusing the entire tower in search of her. He could have felt for her presence, but if she still wanted time alone then he didn't want to use magic to get to her.

The search was fruitless. He passed by Arthur's quarters, but the prince was sound asleep. He checked on his mother in her own chambers, but she was asleep too.

He went out into the forest.

There was light as he moved through the trees. It was unearthly, pale, a shadow of the sun's own rays. It was beautiful, gentle, caring, and older than Kilgharrah himself. She stood in the clearing she had marveled at earlier in the day, the light playing at her fair skin and her green eyes with the aim of making her all the more ethereal. She was peaceful, and gorgeous.

Merlin approached her, and stood by her side as she looked at the sky.

There were a million things to talk about. Would she be returning with Arthur to Camelot and taking up his own responsibilities? Or would she stay while he returned with Arthur? It was his hope that she could rule here in his stead. Until the time of Prophecy came to pass, and he could come to her side. He didn't belong there, but right by her side is where he'd rather be. Forevermore, preferably.

Either way, Morgana would have to decide.

So much to talk about, and still no words were exchanged. For now, for this very moment, there needn't be any speaking. Morgana pulled him in for a kiss.

They had found another way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End. Thank you.


End file.
